Conducting A Master Class

Sometimes you just gotta show 'em how it's done.

Visit #1618, Saturday 12 September 26, 5:05-7:15 p.m., 4.7 miles, 6.9 lbs. of litter.

Temps in the mid-70s, sunny with rising humidity. Rain expected to begin early Sunday morning.

Why the unusually late start for me? I received the flu shot on Thursday and when my immune response kicked in I well, felt like I had the flu. It was so bad I left work after three hours on Friday, went home and slept. I had lingering symptoms all day Saturday but I was good enough to hike by late Saturday afternoon, and I didn't feel like waiting until a predicted wet Sunday morning.

Fun Fact: Some people, like me, feel like they get the flu from the vaccine. Not true. What they and I experience is the body's immune response to the vaccine. This is a good thing and the way it should work. It's unpleasant but less so than the flu itself and much shorter in duration. Bonus: long naps on the couch.

The plan was to hike up to a newly fallen tree up above the wooden walkbridge, which I discovered last week.

Along the way I removed a plastic heart nailed to a tree.

I just removed one from this very same tree in late August.

I also removed some stickers as I hiked.

Now, to meet that fallen tree.

It seems someone else tried their hand at trail maintenance, cutting merely ONE LIMB off the fallen tree and leaving it trailside. Huh? I tried to think; who would do such shoddy work? Couldn't be a Cub Scout/Girl Scout/Boy Scout; they're taught to higher standards than this. Must be a freshman. Well, let's see what Hubbard Park's Ph.D. in Trail Maintenance would do.

He would also entertain another fallen tree while hiking up another trail the same day.

It was while hiking up this trail that I found the ubiquitous Hubbard Park Religious Tract.

And speaking of these left notes; while on a covert Hubbard Park mission on Labor Day last week, I found THREE of these personal notes.

First, when I found them they were all soaking wet. How to dry them out quickly? - This Ph.D. in Hubbard Park Trail Maintenance put them in the microwave!

And just what do they all say? Well, there is a common theme among them. A lot of giving thanks for this and that, but particularly, and peculiarly, he gushes about a woman hiker friend he would apparently like to get closer to. Since I'm pretty certain I know the author, I can comfortably say he's married.

Deciphering part of the scribble of the note on the left results in (spelling as original):

"...I love this woman we chat together she...my love of my life. She my love of my life. She the reason

I want to live. Please give her to me. We have great friendship. Thank you for understanding. Have a great day."

This soap opera, Tales of the Trail, is brought to you by me, the advertising and content sponsor of this blog.

Gushiness aside; as I was hiking up the aforementioned trail carrying my bag of litter, I encountered a family hiking down. The father lamented to me the amount of litter at Castle Craig. I couldn't do anything about it due to my schedule and the waning daylight. But where was the parks employee who usually drives up to the peaks and announces on a P.A. it's time to leave? I personally know it doesn't take that long to clean up East Peak and West Peak, especially while allotting time for the people to get in their cars and split.

It was 6:20 p.m. and I was walking down the road. Cars, and a motorcycle, were STILL driving UP the road. The road is supposed to close at 5:45 p.m. No parks department vehicle ever passed by me in either direction.

Good thing I pay attention while departing from the road to pick up litter. Occasionally I'll find a snake.

He's definitely not litter.

I follow the road back to the gate and lo and behold at 7:13 p.m. -

- sucks to be them! This Ph.D. in Hubbard Park Trail Maintenance wears a watch and always reads the signage.

I didn't stick around to see who let them out or whether they received a ticket. But as I got in my vehicle a few minutes later I saw all three leaving the park.

You Know What Bothers Me?!

 Visit #1617, Sunday 6 September 26, 6:25-9:10 a.m., 5.3 miles, 5.2lbs. of litter.

Temps in the 60s, intermittent showers.

You know what bothers me?

It's not the signs someone tacks on trees calling me an asshole like this week,

It's not the newly fallen trees on the trail which mean bringing my chainsaw next week to keep the trails clear,

It's not the religious tract I found this week, and  I'm constantly finding here and there,

It wasn't the unexpected on and off rain this morning that I was unprepared for, leaving me soggy,

It's not the graffiti I frequently find and remove, such as this morning,

It's not the litter I picked up this week, and week after week,

It isn't even the Igloo cooler tossed into the woods at West Peak, which prompted me to drive up there to retrieve because it was too large and clumsy to carry.

"But you know what does bother me? You know what really makes me sick to my stomach?

For several of the past weeks I've put out my blog notices and asked many of you in the know about this logging project in Hubbard Park, a project which was encroaching on a hiking trail. I had hoped to do something to protect it. And I heard nothing but crickets in reply.

Now this trail is obliterated; completely unusable. It is history. The sample photos don't show the extent of the damage. The loggers took the gravy and left the bones when they could have been held to a higher standard.

Hubbard Park is my hot dog. To those that could have responded and perhaps helped to prevent this, you are nothing but ketchup.

My New Assistant

 Visit #1616, Saturday 29 August 26, 6:10-8:30 a.m., 4.1 miles, 1.5 lbs. of litter.

Temps in the 60s, sunny and dry.

For the past ten years I have been servicing the trails of Hubbard Park with the perfect backpack.

You can see it held all the important tools of my hobby (Note the red zipper pulls; they come up later). A few months ago one of the important zippers on it failed. I wasn't confident it was repairable and if I failed I'd be in a real pickle without a much needed backpack. So I set out to buy a replacement.

And of course, in those intervening ten years the manufacturer, Dakine, JUST HAD TO CHANGE THE DESIGN. Why mess with what's perfect?!

Well, I contacted the company inquiring because while it appeared the backpack was available in different colors, I could only find it in black and from my research it didn't look like the colored versions would be available any time soon, if at all.

All black-how dumb is that? Contrasting colors make it easy to find buckles and zippers.

So all black was going to have to be it. I ordered one, paying full price, which had doubled in those ten years.

But with the bad came the good. Talking via e-mail with Dakine customer about that color issue, it was learned my almost ten year old bad zipper backpack WAS COVERED UNDER WARRANTY and they were going to send me a replacement!

Alas, the replacement would be a downsized version and I can't say I have much use for it so for now it sits unused with the factory tags still on it.

And in the interim with a now working backpack, I had the freedom to try my hand at replacing the bad zipper on my dearly beloved. And I did! So now I have a working backpack, a lady in waiting backpack, and a "meh" backpack.

But there was still the issue of the all black design. I couldn't do anything about the black buckles, but I could about the zipper pulls. I went down the rabbit hole of paracord knots. I bought some 2mm paracord after buying too small cord, and commenced to replace at least six zipper pulls on my new backpack.

Paracord Padlock Knot

Paracord Snake Knot

I should be set for at least the next ten years.

I ventured out on Saturday on an obscure trail which has probably not seen regular use in over sixty years. I'd received reports of trash and graffiti on this trail. I didn't find trash as my informant picked all of it up, but I did find some graffiti which I'll address in the future.

On an illegal trail I found a pair of earrings, and a religious tract.

But what's more unusual is this find.

I don't know anyone who carries floss picks let alone toothpicks or dental floss, and decides to clean their teeth while out in the woods.

And continuing Patootie Patrol from last week, I found and removed Cat's Patootie #46 since November 2017.

In more mundane work on Saturday, I did cut back this fallen tree poking in to the trail.

Using the saw that vindicates my choice to buy this every time I use it.

Hiking onward toward Labor Day.

Patootie Patrol

 It was a soaker.

Visit #1615, Sunday 23 August 26, 6:40-8:55 a.m., 3.2 miles, 0.0 lbs. of litter.

Temps in the low 70s, rain.

Last week I reported my dissatisfaction removing what I call the Cat Patootie graffiti, from a trail marker. I had planned on returning mid-week using a more effective method. In the interim, I received an e-mail from a regular park visitor and one of my park informants that there were more to be found.

I'm very grateful when I receive information like this as it makes me more efficient in my work.

As a bonus, this informant ALSO picks up litter which is certainly appreciated, by me and all park visitors.

So on a Tuesday mountain bike ride I went on the hunt to perform both tasks.

I returned to my unfinished trail marker and removed the ghost image remaining from last week.

Then the hunt was on for the other tags.

My wire brush wouldn't touch this.

All that was catalogued. I returned via bike again on Friday to cover everything.

While Patootie Patrol was done, I still had a fallen tree I discovered last week, AND during my mountain bike rides through the trails this week, discovered MORE fallen trees needing removal.

Things got off to an interesting start on Sunday morning, for as I was loading up my backpack in the parking lot, a goose wandered over looking for food and found none. But that didn't stop them from tasting ALL of my zipper pulls!

I waited until they deemed all the zipper pulls inedible then picked up my backpack and headed out.

And I didn't have to go far, for I found a newly fallen tree I was not aware of, located on the Soap Box Derby track. Since I had my chainsaw with me, I went to work on it.

I didn't carry loppers with me today so I'll have to tidy things up next week.

Hiking up the short steep pitch to the clearing adjacent to the water treatment plant, I discover this enormous, multi-ton boulder had dislodged itself and tried rolling down the trail only to be stopped by a tree. I hike this trail often enough to know this was very recent. Crazy stuff.

It started raining and would continue to do so for the rest of my hike but no matter, I was expecting it.

Here's the second tree to be removed, on the trail behind the water tank.

It was a long trek to the third tree, down below the wooden walkbridge.

Enroute to the fourth tree I found another of our park's vandal's never ending posting of junk, which I removed.

And still raining, I finished off the fourth and final tree, this one on what some may know as the "Yellow Duck" trail because of the trail markers.

Finally, from the Dodging Handcuffs department, as I reached the parking lot, a Meriden police officer pulled up in his squad car and asked me if I was cutting down trees. I pleaded my case and showed him the photos on my phone, avoiding a pat down search, a reading of my Miranda Rights, and a 'cuffed ride in the back seat.